What I Must Do
by Ordendra
Summary: When a friend's daughter goes missing, Jo must call Dean and Sam. After meeting up with their sister, they go through hell to find the missing girl.


"Dean, I know you'll never let me live this down, but," Jo sighed. "Look, I need your help, Winchester-But not for me. It's for someone else. This friend's daughter, she's gone missing and he thinks it's because of some cult. I can't seem to track them down, but, I thought that maybe you and Sam could help. So... You know where to find me."

"See," Dean put his cellphone down. "She did beg for my help after all!"

Sam blew it off. "First of all she didn't beg. Second, she asked me too, and this isn't really something for her. This is a favor for a friend, so, it's not the same."

Dean drooped. "You've got to ruin everything for me, don't you?"

Sam smirked a little. "That's my job."

The very next morning, the brothers set off to the Roadhouse where they'd find Jo. It was mostly quiet on the way there. Nothing important had gone on lately and they weren't in the middle of any sort of hunt. Also, Jo hadn't been very specific with any details about the favor. Like, how old was this girl? Who was her father? Why would a cult want her? Those sorts of things.

Finally Dean pulled up and parked the Impala.

"Promise me, Dean, you're not going to rub this into her face or anything like that, okay?" Sam gave Dean an critical look.

"Sammy, I am insulted!" Dean was being sarcastic. "Me...rub it in after Jo said she'd never ask for my help again? Sammy, Sammy, Sammy."

"Dean...I'm serious." Sam stared, waiting for a serious response.

Dean sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll be a good little boy."

"Good."

As they walked into the Roadhouse, a strange scene was before them. While the song, "Whiskey in the Jar" (Off Kilter version) was being played, a very flexible young woman was break dancing on the floor where a crowd had gathered.

"That's certainly not what I was expecting," Sam found himself staring at her.

"Who in the world still does that...?" Dean was amazed at how her body moved and she wasn't even breaking a sweat. "Who still can...?"

"Sam!" Jo called as she came up to him. "I'm so glad you came. Ash couldn't even crack this one!" Both brothers were still looking at the break dancer. "Amazing, isn't it? I don't know how she does it. It's almost freaky how much energy and spunk she's got. I think she got it from her mother," she winked at them. Both were confused. "Never mind, guys. Why don't you come over here and we'll talk about this in more detail."

"Yeah, sounds great, but, ah, I've gotta take a leak," Dean pointed to the bathroom.

"Gah," Jo exhaled in disgust. "Yeah...take your time too. I won't miss you." She took Sam over to another table and didn't look back.

"Well, then, I will," he mumbled to himself and turned to go to the bathroom. He had not noticed that the crowd had dissipated and that the music had stopped. He had really not noticed the woman right in front of him. So thus, he crashed into the young female that had just finished break dancing, causing her to spill her beer all over herself.

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

"Oh...sorry," Dean grabbed a napkin from the bar and started to pat up the beverage.

"Yeah, well," She took the napkins from him and started to dry herself off.

"I'm really sorry...I didn't see," She then looked up at him for the first time which caused him to stop talking. Those eyes...that face...

"Didn't see, huh?" She shifted her weight to her left hip, placing both hands on them. "You've got eyes, right?"

"Well, yes,"

"These eyes of yours, they work?"

"Yeah, but,"

"Eyes work! Eyes see girl in the way, eyes send message to the brain, brain tells legs to move, you move! You don't knock her drink over onto her!"

That's when it registered, "Kerry?"

"Yeah, what do you want?" She looked at him harder. "Dean? Oh my god! Dean!" She jumped up onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

* * *

Breanna buried her face in her close-drawn knees. The frigid demonic room froze her scantily clad body, but she was sure, even with an Inuit coat she'd still be frozen. This cold was evil, meant to chill you through the bones. There was no warmth—no life anywhere to comfort her in her quaking fear. She bit her blue lip and began to cry again, her tears turning to ice before they hit the stone floor. The pangs of her starving stomach were hushed by the fear and pains in her soul. She knew why she had been taken, she knew what the cult would ask her to do. An ability she had hated having, not because it was a burden, but because, when abused, it would hurt so many others.

Breanna was starting to feel most of her ribs, and many others of bones. She hadn't eaten a morsel of anything, neither had she seen daylight or a human soul, for over a month now. After three whole weeks, she had lost count of the days. All she knew was she was alone in the dark, afraid. Any moment now they would come...she could feel it.

Suddenly the door creaked open as if it had been in a horror movie. Breanna could hear the ice crystals fall from the hinges and splinter on the floor. The high pitched sound rung in her ears. Fearfully, Breanna backed up into the wall of the farthermost corner in the room, bracing herself. She couldn't tell what stood in the doorway, for only more blackness flooded in. No light. No warmth. No comfort.

Silence fell. Breanna couldn't even hear her own heartbeat, nor her breath. She shuddered at the feeling of something black gazing at her. It was looking over her now.


End file.
